Whispered Promises

Chapter 12 - A night of Pretending

Josephine's POV

Tonight's the first big party Jackson and I are attending as a fake couple. We've been pulling off this charade for a few weeks now, but between school, cheer training, and visiting Marques during his rehab, I've barely seen Jackson outside of our staged "dates." We haven't had a chance to really sell the act yet. Tonight could change that, but part of me is dreading it—especially after Sunday's loss.

Marques is devastated, and I can't stop thinking about him. His dream is to play in the NFL, and if Xavier and his team's dirty play ruined that for him, I don't know how I'd react when I see them tonight.

Of course, Jackson is late. No surprise there, but at least he sent a text.

Jackson: my bad runnin late.

Great. But at least we'll be fashionably late. I respond.

Josy: chill, my drink is hitting the spot...lol maybe i am a lightweight and should stop having such high mouth.

Jackson: i got us a bottle of mezcal too. high mouth?

Josy: Dude, you are trying to fill me up! And I meant big mouth, idiot. Like I said, this drink is hitting the spot.

Josy: I can barely text, so it's gonna be a fun night.

Josy: You're responsible for me tonight, btw.

Jackson: Trust me, I know.

Josy: I'm glad you're aware. But just so you know, I have a couple different stages of drunk, so I'm warning you while I still can.

He's gonna need that warning when I start crying over nothing. I'm already tipsy by the time Jackson pulls up, and I have to admit, he's been pretty good about the whole fake boyfriend thing. I haven't opened a door for myself in weeks.

"What do you wanna listen to?" he asks as he slides back into the driver's seat.

"I mean, I love Taylor Swift."

"Yeah, I know. Which is exactly why you're not getting anywhere near the aux cord tonight."

"Come on, Jackson. I love her!" I pout, but he just smirks and keeps scrolling through his playlist. He finally lands on Morgan Wallen, and I hum along as the song starts playing.

"Okay, I can live with this. He's pretty hot," I say, pointing at the album cover.

Jackson lifts the phone next to his face. "You know, we do look pretty similar."

I roll my eyes. "You wish. Work on your beard game first—your mustache isn't even close to his level."

He laughs and starts driving. I sway to the music, singing along, trying to enjoy the ride even though my mind's on Marques and the night ahead. One of Jackson's teammates is hosting tonight, and despite Sunday's loss, the party's still on. No one cancels parties just because we didn't win.

We arrive around 9:30. As we walk up to the house, I spot a guy throwing up in the yard. "When did this start?" I ask, cringing at the sight.

"I think around six."

"It's rude to be this late, you know. You seriously need to work on your time management, sir."

"We're here now, aren't we?" Jackson says, shrugging it off as he opens the door.

The smell of alcohol and sweat hits me immediately. It's disgusting, but Jackson's hand grabs mine before I can focus on it too much. "Remember, you're my girlfriend tonight. Ready?" he whispers in my ear.

I nod, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine. We make our way through the crowd, and I can't help but ask, "Wait, what's our plan?"

"Our plan?"

"Yeah, like... are we just gonna stand here, hoping people notice us, or what?"

"You don't need to plan everything. Just live in the moment."

"I don't think I know how to do that," I admit, anxiety creeping in as I scan the room.

"You'll be fine." His breath on my skin gives me goosebumps, and he squeezes my hand reassuringly. We grab drinks from the kitchen and head to the living room where most of the team and cheer squad are hanging out.

Xavier and his friends are lurking in the hallway, and I feel a surge of anger just seeing them. I try to distract myself by sitting down, but I'm not sure what to do. Jackson takes the couch, and I sit stiffly on the edge.

"How's Marques doing?" one of the girls asks from across the room.

"He's doing okay. His injury's pretty bad though, so he won't be able to play for a while."

"I hope he recovers fast. He's the best QB we've ever had."

"I know," I say with a tight smile. "I hope so too."

"Levi's been replacing him," Connor chimes in. "He's been practicing with us for a couple weeks. Not as good as Marques, but not bad."

"Alex doesn't like him," I add.

"Alex doesn't like anyone except you," Connor jokes.

"True," I laugh, but the conversation quickly turns to gym routines and other stuff I can't really contribute to. I sip my drink instead, and before I know it, the cup's empty. Jackson notices.

He takes my cup and heads to the kitchen. When he comes back, he hands me a fresh drink. "Here, babe."

"Babe? You guys are in a serious relationship now?" the girl from earlier asks, eavesdropping.

"Thanks," I say quietly. It was sweet of him to get me a refill. Jackson sits back down and responds to the girl with a smirk. "Yeah, we are. Got a problem with that?"

Before I can process what's happening, Jackson pulls me by the waist and carefully lifts me onto his lap. I blink in surprise, but then settle in sideways, wrapping my arm around his neck. His hand rests comfortably between my waist and thigh. It's oddly cozy.

"Since when did Jackson commit to one girl?" Connor teases.

"Since I found the right one," Jackson replies, grinning at me. It's such a cute smile, and I almost giggle—yeah, definitely a little drunk now.

After a while, the party starts to get boring. I lean in close and whisper, "You think people are convinced?"

"You wanna leave?" he asks, sensing my restlessness. Before I can answer, he grins. "Let's go check out that new place with the pool tables."

"Sure, but fair warning, I won the last time I played."

"Yeah, right," he laughs, clearly not believing me.

He grabs my hand, and we sneak out of the house toward his truck. Once inside, I let out a dramatic sigh. "I'm hungry. Wanna hit up In-N-Out?"

"Sure," Jackson replies. "But didn't you just go to the bathroom? You better not need to pee again."

"Sorry, small bladder," I laugh. "Alcohol makes it worse." I really do have a small bladder but alcohol makes it ten times worse and I have to go every 5 min.

We pull up to In-N-Out, "What do you want? I am gonna order for us while you go do your thing"

"Double cheeseburger animal style without onions" I wink at him and hop out of the truck.

When I get back, our food's ready, and we eat in the truck, laughing and talking like we've known each other for years. It's weird how comfortable I feel with him, considering how fake this whole relationship is supposed to be.

The burgers are messy, with sauce dripping everywhere. I try to clean up, but Jackson grabs a napkin and gently wipes my face for me. I pause, watching as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

Why am I smiling right now? This is so cliché—like something out of a movie. Is he really going to kiss me?

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